The little light in the corner of my right eye,
The carefree giggle at a senseless joke,
The breezy naivety,
Now there’s another part that’s awoke.

A darkness pooling in my pupils,
A window to a humourless soul,
A heavy burden touches gentle lips,
What it’s left there is a scowl.

It was a slow surrender,
I might have stopped it if I knew,
But I didn’t, so I couldn’t save,
What I have lost to you.

I can see the task in front of me
It’s mapped out clear as day
Pick up the phone and make that call
The job won’t just go away.

It’s easy and it will take no time
Once completed, I’ll feel relieved
But the phone sits untouched, within my reach
The assignment not achieved.

There is no physical barrier
So I can make the choice to overcome
Yes! I will pick up the phone and make that call
Or…I could write a short poem.

Soul’s shaking, I’m breaking
I’m sick of the faking
Everyone’s someone but
I’m still in the making.
Don’t want fame, just a name
But I’m stuck in this game
‘Be noticed’ ‘Be worthy’
But I only feel shame.

Where are the epic novels
About the reliable mum,
Who went to the shops
And had dinner on the table at 6?

Where is all the poetry
About the dependable dad,
Who tucked the kids in
And stayed married and faithful to his wife?

And where are all the ballads
About the happy children,
Who are loved and fed?
Who captures the peace of consistency?

Bell chimes at 3.15, the swarm of kids depart.
There is the thunk of lockers slamming closed
Then it’s out the gates, the world awaits
The text books now disposed.

Then the swarm descends upon the streets
And freedom induced bravado remind
That you not be late, to stop 48
Or you risk being left behind.

As the tram slow and reluctant approaches
Rough hands push their friends into battle
There’s a collective crunch, as on you bunch
A heard of chaotic cattle.

Now stuck within a sweaty mass
As you’re being packed in closer still
With uniforms that are abused and deodorant that’s overused
The tram has reached its fill.

The unsuspecting commuters
Clench their teeth to stay composed
As the crowd all but tries, to fit one more inside
But finally the doors are closed.

There is victory for those on board
And while from the struggle you’re nearly spent
You still find energy from your ride, to beam at those you’ve left outside
As on the way you went.

In the midst of drought
When does the epic love come?
…with the summer rain

Pick a label to wear,
With pride or on secret- it doesn’t matter.
Once you have chosen, you’re stuck with it
If you don’t pick one, one will be assigned
So be quick to avoid disappointment.
Each and every one will become heavy to wear,
Though some have a little more weight than others.
The label will cover up a multitude of sins
And can disguise who you really are- even from yourself.